Sacrifice
by serenarian1
Summary: Hermione Granger has had enough of the elitist ideas that plague her time at Hogwarts. When studying late in the library one night she comes across the poster boy for pureblood elitism and lets him have both barrels. His reaction shocks her. Time jump, oneshot, Dramione goodness. I own nothing except the plot. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.


**A/N: Hello all! It's been a while since I updated anything. I am still working on Remember to Forget but I found the start of this on my PC and decided to polish it up a bit, finish it and upload it. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcomed so if you feel moved to leave a review I would be very grateful for your comments. **

**It's also the first piece I've attempted that takes place at Hogwarts, so that's just a little fun fact for you all... **

**serenarian1 x **

**Sacrifice**

I slipped through the door, clutching my books to my chest as I tried to hold my breath. I knew that I wasn't supposed to be here after hours, but Madame Pince had given me a key ages ago; thanks to a crafty memory charm she had forgotten she'd given it to me. Besides, I really needed to be here – my Transfiguration essay was due tomorrow and I still needed to make sure I understood the key concepts. Professor McGonagall would be much less than impressed with me if I didn't keep up my excellent grades.

I sighed to myself as I sat down, preparing to pull an all-nighter. It wasn't the first I had ever pulled; after all a girl only has so many hours in the day to study, even with a time-turner. I ran my hand over the spines of the books stacked neatly on the large shelf; thinking over how many times I had been here in refuge. As much as I loved Harry and Ron, they could be overbearing sometimes. Not to mention that their constant teenage boy tendencies were starting to grate on me. Ron's latest thing was making constant fart jokes, while Harry spent all his time obsessing about what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was likely to do if he came back.

I was just flipping through the pages of the textbook I needed when I felt someone standing behind me. I froze; half expecting a professor or Madame Pince to grab hold of me and deduct several million points from Gryffindor. There was a pregnant pause as I tried to wish myself away from the situation before I heard quiet laughter behind me.

"Granger, stop panicking. I can almost smell the fear coming off you!"

I whirled around, my fright turning to anger, as I looked into the smug face of my biggest enemy. "Malfoy!" I yelled, clenching my fists. "How on earth did you get in here?"

He grinned, leaning against the shelf with a triumphant expression on his face. "Well, mudblood, you crept in here with the key, but Little Miss Gryffindor forgot to lock it after her," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Thank Merlin you're not a Slytherin, I would seriously question the sanity of the Sorting Hat."

I felt the familiar rage rising in my chest as I stared at him. "Stop calling me that, you supremacist idiot!" I yelled, not caring about keeping quiet anymore.

Malfoy lifted his wand and waved it in the air, muttering something under his breath. "Granger, if we're going to have a screaming match then at least remember to cast a muffliato charm," he said, throwing me off.

"We are going to have a screaming match? WE are going to have a screaming match?" I demanded; my anger fuelled further by his calmness. "Malfoy, in case you hadn't noticed, I am the one yelling at you, and you know why? It's because for the last four years you have seen nothing but my background!"

"What else is there about you, mudblood?" he shot back. His voice was calm but I could see his eyes clouding with anger.

"There is so much more, Malfoy!" My voice was rising to epic scream proportions, but I couldn't stop myself. The gate had been flung open on my rage, and now I couldn't rein it in. "My parents are the kindest, most wonderful people I know, and I am proud to be their daughter! If I turn out anything like either of my parents, I will be very privileged! But you…you pureblood supremacist – all you can see is that I am Muggle-born, and that's what you have instantly judged me on!" The words came out in a rush, and I collapsed onto a chair as I ran out of breath.

Malfoy was standing against the shelf, his face paler than usual. I looked up at him in surprise as he was breathing very hard. His eyes were wide as he stared into space. "Uh… Malfoy, are you alright over there?" I asked hesitantly.

Suddenly he looked down at the floor as if shocked into life. "You know what, Granger – you're right," he almost whispered. "I've hated you all these years and yet I don't really know you." He dropped down next to her and caught her eye, his voice bitter. "But you don't really know me, either. Nobody does."

I looked at him in shock. "You're right, Malfoy, I don't. I just got so tired of you judging me on what you thought I was like, instead of the way I treated you. I've only ever been hostile to you because you've been hostile to me."

He closed his eyes, as if tired. "I was only hostile to you because of you being a mud-uh, I mean a Muggle-born. You have to know that my father has never taught me anything different. I was taught to hate you on sight," he said slowly. He turned to me, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

My breath caught in my throat as he said my name. "You've never called me by my first name before," I said needlessly. We both knew it to be true. His sudden smile confused me.

"Well, you've never called me by mine either," he reminded me, his eyes suddenly warm. "Why don't you try it out for size?"

"Okay, Draco," I responded instantly, the word feeling strange in my mouth. "That was a bit strange – are we suddenly on first-name terms now?"

His resulting smile reached his eyes. "I'm not sure. After all, we barely know each other." He held out his hand. "Hello, I'm Draco Malfoy. And you are?"

I chuckled, almost against my will, and accepted his outstretched hand, shaking it firmly. Thankfully, his handshake was equally firm. "Good to meet you, Draco. I'm Hermione Granger." We both started laughing at the same time. As he ran his hand through his hair, still chuckling to himself, I came to a strange realisation. I actually enjoyed his company. I looked up at him, into his odd eyes that seemed to swing somewhere between silver, grey and blue, and made another startling realisation – he was actually very attractive.

He must have caught me staring at him because he suddenly smirked. "See something you like, Hermione?" he challenged.

Thankfully I was ready for that comment. "I'm just seeing what Draco looks like. For all these years I've only seen Malfoy – and truth be told, I tried to avoid looking at him as I knew it would only encourage the teasing," I admitted, my voice betraying the hurt that came flooding back at the memory.

The expression in his eyes changed abruptly, and I thought for a second that I glimpsed guilt. Then his usual composure returned. "So, Hermione – tell me about your life when you aren't at Hogwarts," he said smoothly. I spent the next few minutes explaining my background and what I did when I went home for the summer, including the Muggle inventions that he was largely ignorant of. His eyebrows nearly shot off the top of his head when I explained that we didn't have house elves at home, making me giggle, and when he learned I could cook he seemed interested.

"But my life really isn't that interesting," I finished. "What about yours Draco? What do you do when you go home for the summer?"

He sat down in the chair opposite me, rubbing the back of his hand distractedly. "My life at home is very much like the life at Hogwarts," he began, "except that at Malfoy Manor I'm not the bully. I'm the victim. My family is one of the biggest and wealthiest pureblood wizarding families, going back generations. My mother was a Black, so I'm the product of two very elite wizarding families. My father takes his role as the head of the family very seriously. He often shouts at me for not doing as well as I should here at school – especially when you beat me to the top of the class."

"Your house is called Malfoy Manor?" I asked, interested. "Where is it?"

Draco shrugged. "It's in Wiltshire. It's just a house." Then he smiled. "What about yours? Where do your parents live?"

"London," I replied. "They run a private dental practice – they're both dentists." At his look of confusion, I found myself grinning. "They're doctors – they specialise in teeth."

"Ew," he replied, turning his nose up in disgust. "So they poke around inside Muggle mouths all day?" I burst out laughing at that, and he smiled at me again. Really smiled. It wasn't something I had seen often, and yet in the last hour he had smiled more than he had in the entire four years we had been at school together. I liked his smile – it was infinitely better than the horrible smirk he had worn during most of our previous encounters together. Deep down I was surprised that he had revealed so much of his personal life to me so readily; and I wondered why he had confided in me. Was it possible that there was more to Malfoy – I mean, Draco – than I had ever allowed myself to see?

"You have a great smile," I found myself saying before I could stop myself. Oh Merlin, why did I say that? "I just haven't seen it before – got so used to the smirk instead," I added in a fast attempt to recover.

He moved closer to me, and I felt myself hold my breath. He was so close now that I could see the mercury of his eyes clearly. His scent was like leather and sandalwood with an almost citrus note. "You know, your smile is great too…" he murmured. Before I knew what was happening, he had closed the gap between us; brushing his lips against mine. I heard a small moan escape from my throat, surprising me, and he took it as an invitation; sliding his arms around me and pulling me closer to deepen the kiss.

_I'm kissing Draco Malfoy. I am actually kissing Draco Malfoy._ The thought was almost absurd but I could not deny the way his mouth gently caressed mine; his lips searching. Suddenly feeling quite daring, I opened my mouth to his, allowing my tongue to gently explore. A low growl came from his throat and that did it. The kiss became frantic; the passion exploding between us. He tangled his fingers in my curls and I found myself mirroring him; my hands sliding around the back of his head and smoothing the silk of his hair.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine; both of us breathing hard. "You taste good," he whispered. I was still floating somewhere in a haze of confusion. Had I really just kissed Malfoy, the person who had annoyed me most in the previous four years? He was holding me tightly still, the warmth of his skin intoxicating. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said in a low voice. "You were right under my nose the whole time and I couldn't see it. I should never have said what I did. I should have gotten to know you…"

"It's okay," I said gently. "Malfoy – it's not just your fault. I made very little effort to get to know you either."

He raised his head, looking away. "How could you? I kept calling you a mudblood. I wouldn't want to get to know someone who kept insulting me either."

I smiled. "Are you forgetting the slap I gave you in third year? I called you something pretty nasty then."

He rubbed his cheek absently. "How could I forget that slap? It stung for days – and not just physically. You humiliated me in front of Crabbe and Goyle, not to mention Scarhead and Weaselbee." Then his eyes met mine and I almost forgot to breathe at the tenderness I glimpsed in them. He traced my cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes searching mine as if for confirmation that I wasn't going to slap him again. "It feels like I'm just seeing you for the first time, Granger. I'm not romantic at all – I don't even believe in romance, but right now it really does feel like I've only now seen you."

"Same here, Draco," I whispered, just before his lips met mine again.

_Two Years Later _

I stood in the charred remains of what was once the Great Hall, the bodies of former friends littered around me. I swallowed the bitterness of unshed tears as I stepped through the carnage, my wand raised in careful vigilance. I had battled too many Death Eaters today to take a chance, especially when I knew that Harry had lured Lord Voldemort into what would hopefully be their final battle. I had just watched Ron's mum take down Bellatrix and the dust was still settling.

Memories began to flood my mind – the last time I had sat in this room enjoying breakfast with my friends; Professor Dumbledore addressing us on our first evening here, Ron getting the Howler from his mum which had made us all laugh, and Harry chasing Draco in sixth year…. oh Draco… The memory was making me physically ache in a way I'd been trying to push out of my mind. Although he had left suddenly at the end of sixth year without even as much as a goodbye; I missed him terribly. Of course, when the horrible truth had come out that Dumbledore had been killed, and Draco had been tasked with his murder by Voldemort, I had spent several days in my room sobbing my heart out. Both for his absence and for him; I knew it must have eaten him up to have to struggle with the guilt of that grotesque task all alone. It had since emerged that he hadn't been able to go through with it and my heart had leapt at that information. I knew him – he had been my Draco – and although there was darkness in his heart, he wasn't capable of true evil.

I heard shouts from the corridor and immediately readied myself for another fight. When shouts full of such terror echoed off the walls, Death Eaters were never far behind. I spun around, my eyes scanning the doorway, until a tall hooded figure stalked in. I instinctively took a battle stance; the adrenaline coursing through my veins like a river in flood. The tall figure threw back their hood as their wand came up. "Expel…." The word died on my tongue as I glimpsed the figure's familiar platinum blond hair.

It was Draco.

His head snapped up as my spell trailed off. His eyes glittered in the darkness like liquid storm clouds. A dark curtain of dread settled over me as he stepped into position. Would I really have to duel him?

"Granger," he said, so quietly I had to strain to hear him. "We meet again."

"Is this how it's going to end, Malfoy?" I found myself reverting to addressing him by his surname. "The two of us battling to the death, over some stupid war we both got dragged into?"

A flicker of pain crossed his features. "You think I want to kill you? That I _could_ kill you?"

I bit my lip. "You're a Death Eater, Malfoy! You work for… for him now."

He took a step towards me, and I instinctively backed away. Another flicker of pain crossed his face; still beautiful despite the blood and dust that were streaked across his pale cheeks. He sank to his knees, looking down at the remains of the once polished wooden floor. "Hermione…" he choked out. "I couldn't kill Dumbledore… what makes you think I could kill you?"

"Why wouldn't you? You've already ripped my heart out Malfoy!" I was too angry and scared to filter my words to spare his feelings, as I would have once.

He looked up at me then, and I saw his eyes were full of tears. "I couldn't tell you – it all happened too fast. I tried to do it but I couldn't – and then Snape did it – and before I knew what was happening we were running out of Hogwarts and Aunt Bella was apparating me to the Manor. I knew I couldn't return after what I'd… after what I'd tried to do," he said in a rush. Tears were freely running down his cheeks now. "I tried to owl you, but he stopped all outgoing communication and I would have been killed on sight if _he_ had found out." He looked at the wand he was clutching. With a strangled sob, he threw it hard. It bounced off the opposing wall and lay in the debris.

I bit my lip harder; tasting my own blood on my tongue. I didn't know what to say to him – it was too raw. His obvious pain echoed through the still-bruised caverns of my heart. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd fallen to my knees beside him and pulled him into my arms. He buried his head in my chest, sobbing freely now as my own tears ran down my cheeks. "I'm a coward Hermione… I'm so sorry… so damn sorry for everything I've done…" he choked, his voice muffled. "If you have to kill me then do it. I deserve it."

I held him at arm's length to look at him. He raised his tear-darkened eyes to mine. "Malfoy, I don't have to kill you and I don't want to," I stated.

His features twisted in sudden pain and he screamed, holding his left forearm in obvious agony. The sound bounced off the ruined walls, ghostlike in its intensity. He looked up after a few moments, his pain replaced by confusion. "I don't understand…"

An idea formed in my mind. "Malfoy– your Mark," I said excitedly. He pushed up the sleeve of his robe to show a faded red Mark, not the vivid black I had seen on the bodies of the other Death Eaters. "Look," I said, almost not daring to say the words. "It's faded. That means…"

"The Dark Lord is dead," he finished in a shaky voice, "But how?"

I couldn't help the pride that filled my voice. "Harry killed him. It worked."

Draco looked up at me, dumbfounded. "W-what? I thought he was dead?"

I leaned forward, excitement filling me as I caught his gaze. "No – he was the horcrux that Who-Know-Who never meant to create, Draco… all that died was the horcrux! Not Harry!" I sat back on my heels, processing the information. Lord Voldemort was dead.

As if reading my mind, Draco's gaze dropped to his lap again. "What's a horcrux? So what does that mean now?" he mumbled, his voice cracking in anguish.

I felt my heart twist inside me. "I-I don't know, Malfoy," I answered honestly.

He banged his fist hard on the broken floor. "Stop calling me that!" His raised voice echoed around the remains of the Hall, and I found myself wincing at the harsh tone of it. "Once, you called me Draco," he continued, clenching at his knees so tightly his knuckles were white. "You whispered that name, you spoke it – and you cried it out aloud. You weren't afraid to use it. Now – because of what I've done, because of my father's **stupid **promise to the Dark Lord… I've lost you forever, haven't I?"

I realised in that moment that he was crying. "What are you crying over me for?" I asked, unable to swallow the question. "I don't understand."

"You really have no idea, do you?" he said bitterly. "I fought my father tooth and nail when he took me to be Marked. I tried so many times to get out of the task I had to do. I tried to come back to Hogwarts several times – once he caught me trying to apparate outside of the gates. For that he tortured me for days, testing out the Cruciatus to its full effects. And you're asking me why?"

I nodded, my blood chilling in my veins. I'd had no idea.

"So much for you being the smartest witch of our age," he grumbled, looking away. Then he raised his mercury eyes to mine and I was unprepared for the emotion radiating from them. "Hermione Granger, I am desperately in love with you. I have been since that day in the library," he declared.

His words hit me like a Bludger to the gut. I was genuinely lost for words. I had wanted to hear those words from him so badly for so long before he had left the school but now they seemed twice as poignant.

"I…" I stuttered, trailing off.

He chuckled. "Hermione Granger, lost for words? Just say what's in your heart, Granger – whether it'll hurt me or not."

I took a deep breath, my lower lip trembling. "I'm in love with you too, Draco – I always have been," I finally admitted.

Suddenly I heard two sharp gasps from the doorway and whirled around to see Harry and Ron glaring at me. Ron marched up to me, his face turning tomato-red. "Did I just hear you right, 'Mione?" he demanded. "I can't have – I could have sworn you just said you love Death Eater ferret boy here!"

I stood to my full height, looking him in the eyes. "I do," I said clearly.

Harry put his hand between us, looking tense. "Hermione, what do you mean you love Malfoy? Explain," he said; his green eyes troubled.

"She and I were together before I had to leave last year," came Draco's voice from below us. "We got together in fifth year and were still together for most of sixth – until I got my task from _him_. I was forced to leave. I didn't want to."

Ron was spitting feathers. "But you're a bloody _Death Eater_!"

"Oh shut up, Ronald!" I yelled suddenly, the last shred of my temper fraying. "He wasn't a Death Eater when we got together, and he never wanted to become one last year! Lucius forced him into it!" I rounded on Harry then. "Did you want to be the Chosen One, Harry? If you could have changed things when you were a baby, would you want this?"

Harry blinked for a second before shaking his head. "No, of course not," he admitted. "I would have wanted my parents to stay alive and for me to be raised as a normal wizard."

Draco stood up at that point. "For what it's worth, Potter – I wish you could have had that life. I wish we all could have. We've seen things we were never meant to see and done things we were never meant to do. We're seventeen, for Merlin's sake." He looked at Ron. "Weasley – I apologise for everything I ever said about you or your family. Pureblood, halfblood – it's all the same. We all bleed the same way. I've seen too much bloodshed to cling to the beliefs I was raised with."

He looked at me then, taking my hand and rubbing a callused thumb along the back of it. "Hermione, I love you so much," he began, "but I can't tie you to me if it would mean losing your friends. I know how much they mean to you. It would be the most selfish thing I could ever do."

He dropped my hand and started walking away, and I sank to the floor again; suddenly unable to see through the tears that were clouding my vision. My sobs rang loudly in the uncomfortable silence as I heard Draco's footsteps fade.

"Wait, Malfoy."

I snapped my head up in surprise. That had been Ron's voice. He was walking towards Draco. I watched in surprise as he offered his hand. "Malfoy – you obviously care loads about our 'Mione if you would let her go to keep her happy," he explained. "Don't leave her – stay. She loves you. Harry and I won't abandon her just because she happens to be in love with you." He looked to Harry for confirmation, who nodded with a smile.

My breath caught in my throat as Draco nodded in response and shook Ron's hand firmly. "Bloody hell," he voiced with a laugh. "Forgive me, Weasley, but that was the last thing I expected you to say."

Ron shrugged and grinned at him. "Well, I'm in a good mood 'cause Harry killed old Voldy. Plus I know if I'd let you walk away like that 'Mione would have hexed my balls off."

I laughed and nodded. "You bet I would have, Ron."

Draco walked over to Harry and offered him his hand too. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose before accepting and shaking hands with him. "Well done, Potter. You actually did it – and we all believed you were dead."

"We didn't," said Ron and I at the same time, before bursting into laughter.

Harry regarded Draco with a curious expression. "So, you and Hermione? When did that happen in fifth year? Malfoy – you were in cahoots with Umbridge that year."

Draco shuddered. "Don't remind me – she was crazy. I thought it'd be good fun at first but then it turned into something crazy. She was just off her rocker."

I smiled. "He caught me in the library after hours one night and instead of taking me to Umbridge, we ended up having a screaming match."

Draco chuckled and took up the thread. "Yeah – a screaming match that ended in me kissing her."

Ron and Harry's eyebrows nearly disappeared off the top of their heads.

"While I'm really enjoying the little reminiscing session," I began with a smile, "we have just won a war. I'm sure many people are looking for us outside."

Draco stiffened. "I can't go out there – they'll turn on me."

Harry put his hand on his shoulder. "Not if you walk out with us." Ron stepped up beside him, and I flanked his other side; entwining his fingers with mine. "We'll tell everyone you defected during the battle and helped save Hermione from a Death Eater attack," Harry continued.

"Your parents already defected," I added, looking into Draco's surprised eyes.

Harry nodded. "Your mum lied to Voldemort and told him I was dead when she knew I wasn't. She asked me if you were alive," he explained. "I wouldn't have been able to defeat him without her help."

"She's alive?" he asked, his voice small. "What – what about Lucius?"

I nodded. "Him too. He defected as well." I squeezed Draco's hand. "Come on. It's over, Draco. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do now – we can be together freely now."

His eyes met mine then – his almost otherworldly eyes that had always betrayed his true emotions. My stomach filled with jitters as I read the intense feelings contained within their depths. He held up his other hand. "Wait," he requested, his gaze never leaving mine. "There's something I need to do before I can go out there."

Before Harry and Ron had time to respond, he had pulled me closer and his lips were on mine. In that kiss; I tasted everything I needed to know – the salt of our tears, the faint earthy combined tastes of blood and dirt, but more importantly I tasted him. Draco. My Draco. I knew in that moment that no matter what the uncertain future held; I would be sharing it with him.


End file.
